


The After Effects of Rescuing an Owl Prince

by shou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, High School, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Owls, Telepathic Bond, my boi this is gonna be strange, shape shifting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shou/pseuds/shou
Summary: Alternately titled: How Bokuto Koutarou Became a Criminal in Another Reality, Fell in Love, and Accidentally Married Akaashi KeijiWhen he's eight, he rescues an owl.When he's eighteen, the same owl, now looking like the most beautiful human he's ever seen, shows up in his room asking for help





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> hello kids  
> i love bokuaka  
> this is unbeta'd crap what the hell  
> i love owls  
> what did i listen to while writing this?  
> lol it was the spirited away soundtrack  
> SPECIFICALLY!!! "the dragon boy"

On the night of Koutarou’s eighth birthday, the storm outside is so strong he cannot even see the tree that spreads beside his window, the tips of the longest branches just barely missing the glass. The wind is so strong he can hear it howling, whipping the rain into bullets that beat against his window pane, turning it ice cold against his nose. Koutarou’s mother drew the curtains not an hour before, and told Koutarou to stay in his warm bed. But Koutarou is drawn to the storm, drawn to the chaos. Shrieking wind and the thunderous rain makes him want to run and jump and climb out his window, but he knows his mother would scold him. She usually does, when he does things he enjoys. 

Wind and rain are his favorite elements, because they can be both gentle and rough and fun and terrifying, and they’re never the same. So of course he spends storms with his nose pressed to the window, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders he’s dragged from his bed. It’s the only way to spend a storm, after all! 

The storm on the night of his birthday is the strongest one he’s ever seen. As the digital clock on his bookshelf reaches eleven, the wind is so cold Koutarou shrieks with it, safe from being overheard because his parents are downstairs, they aren’t listening, and the wind is too loud. He is laughing and shrieking with the wind when there’s a thud against his window, like something has hit it. Koutarou sees nothing, but then remembers he is on the second floor, of course whatever hit his window fell down! 

Five minutes later sees him in bright yellow boots and a raincoat, sneaking down the steps to the door, quietly unlocking it, and dashing out into the rain. The moment the drops hit his face, he’s smiling, the dark not scaring him at all. He skips in a circle before remembering he is on a mission, and his skip turns into a determined march. The window to his room is on the side of the house, and so Koutarou treks all the way around, to the little green bushes his mother planted last summer. Judging by the fact his window is right above him now, he must be in the right place! Without a moment of hesitation, Koutarou jumps into the bushes, peering here and there, pushing the wet leaves away and sticking his face underneath to look for clues. 

He almost gives up, but then he hears it. A tiny, weak cry. Like a bird! Koutarou’s efforts double as he scrabbles around, frustration making him a little clumsy, until his hand touches something. It’s smooth, and wet, and… feathered? He reaches both hands forward, groping around until he gets his little fingers around the thing, and gently pulls it up out of the bushes. 

A bird. No–an owl! Koutarou has a tiny, pure black owl in his hands. It’s small, oh so small, and looks a little drenched. It’s also not moving, and its wing is drooping in a way that makes Koutarou worry. But he knows what he must do; he must bring the owl back inside. 

His raincoat has a soft, fuzzy inside, so he unzips it and sticks the owl inside, close to his heart. It’s warm in there, and maybe the little guy just needs some warmth! With everything in his little heart, Koutarou hopes the little owl is alive. The hope is what makes him hurry back inside, quickly lock the door, and run up the stairs so quickly he nearly trips. Finally, when he’s back in his room, he lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

After taking his boots off, he grabs a blanket, one with stars and clouds on it, thick and soft and the kind that water always soaks into really quickly. He spreads it out on his carpeted floor, then slowly unzips his jacket, and draws the little owl out. Its feathers are all messed up from being inside his coat, like when Koutarou gets bedhead, and it still isn’t moving. Carefully, oh so carefully, the little boy sets the owl on the blanket. Grabbing one corner of the blanket, he uses it to gently pat the owl’s feathers, rubbing very softly to hopefully dry it a little bit. After a few minutes of careful, light patting, he grabs another corner, and starts to rub little circles and ruffle the feathers a bit, smiling while he works. The owl is very pretty, he thinks. He’s never seen such a pretty little bird. 

His clock is flashing eleven-thirty-six when he finally gives up his drying, and decides he needs to try something else. There are no clothes in his closet that will fit the owl, so instead he grabs a scarf; yellow, with black stripes like a bumblebee. It’s perfect to use to wrap around the owl, turning the bird into a little burrito. The thought makes Koutarou smile to himself, cradling the owl to his chest as he slowly tiptoes over to his bed to lay the little bundle on his pillow. He lays it on the middle pillow, the most fluffy one, right in between the two less fluffy ones. Once he thinks the owl is comfy, he backs off and admires his work. It looks comfy, even if it’s still not moving, so Koutarou is pleased with his work. But now, he has to change. The owl is warm and nearly dry, but he is very damp. 

Towels are only in the hall cabinet, and he doesn’t want to sneak out anymore, so instead he uses the blanket he was previously using for the owl to towel his snowy white hair. It sticks up in wild directions after he scrubs at it vigorously, but at least it isn’t wet. He peels off his wet clothes, leaving them on the floor, and hurriedly rubs himself dry with the blanket. Fresh underwear go on first obviously, then he wiggles his way into the footies his aunt gave him last Christmas. They’re soft, warm, and he loves them a lot. Once he is warm and dry, he pulls down the blanket of his bed, crawling underneath and drawing the owl down to his chest. He cuddles it close to his heart, blowing warm puffs of breath against its little head. 

He is nearly asleep when he feels the owl stir. It shakes its little head, and Koutarou lifts his so he can look down as the owl slowly blinks twice, then opens its eyes fully. 

Koutarou gasps. The owl’s eyes are deep, deep green. No–blue? Both? He can’t tell. They’re swirling darkness, but there’s a bright glow to them all the same, like little pools of the night all wrapped up in moonlight. There’s even stars, glittering silver specks, and Koutarou would wish on them if he wasn’t in such awe. The owl’s eyes are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. They are pure wonder, and Koutarou’s breath has completely left him. 

Only a moment goes by where he gets to appreciate those eyes. Or maybe it is an hour, or a year or a day or even a _hundred_ years. Koutarou does not know, and he does not care. It is the most amazing moment, and it ends with the owl burrowing against his chest, hiding it’s face and snuggling towards the heat source of his chest. 

Koutarou can only wrap his arms around the owl, fall back against his pillow, and slowly let sleep overtake him. He dreams of deep, glowing eyes, of stars that are not in the sky, and soft, dark wings that hold him close to a fluttering heart. 

-

When he wakes up, the owl is gone, along with his scarf, and only a silken black feather, just as long as his palm, is left in their place. 

Koutarou is sad, until he touches the feather, and the memory of beautiful eyes comes rushing back. His sadness fades away as he closes his fingers around the feather, his lips already turning up into a smile. 


	2. TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akaashi is not here? what is this?  
> self indulgent bokuroken thats what it is bc im weak  
> ALSO SOMEONE MENTIONED THAT THE VERY FIRST SCENE IS A LIL NO 6 ISH AND I CAN GUARANTEE YOU THAT LIL SHION SCREAMING INTO THE STORM IS EXACTLY WHAT I HAD IN MIND  
> white haired babies and their mysterious dark haired baes,,,, a trend?  
> anyways  
> im so fuckin weak posting this the same day i hate myself (my excuse: im going to a con tomorrow and saturday S O)))))))  
> beta-ing is for the strong and i am very weak

High school, as it turns out, is both Koutarou’s worst nightmare and his best daydream. There’s homework and tests and stress and people that don’t like him, and that all sucks. But there’s also Kuroo and Kenma, and they’re kind of Koutarou’s best friends, and they make everything less horrible. 

And there’s _volleyball._ Koutarou _loves_ volleyball. Sure, he kind of hated it for a while, cause he got frustrated and everything sucked and why couldn’t he just _play normally_ for once, but after the not so fun time, he learned to love it. And boy, does he love it. Kenma is setter, because Koutarou and Kuroo sort of bribed him into learning while they were kids, and Kuroo is a middle blocker and Koutarou is a _spiker._ He gets to slam ball after ball into the ground during practice. (Which is usually only about ten balls, before Kenma gets tired and tries to run away. It never works. Kuroo catches him.) 

So while some of high school sucks, there’s parts that are pretty great. Kuroo is the greatest guy in the world, and Kenma might be quiet and kinda apathetic but Koutarou adores him, and he knows by the way Kenma lets him follow Kenma home when Kuroo stays late to tutor some poor first year that Kenma likes him too. They’re all best friends, after all! 

Another perk about high school is Koutarou finally _grows up._ He stayed pretty shrimpy for all of junior high, and then all of first year of high school, but by second year, he shoots up like a tree. He also starts gelling his hair up so the dark roots and streaks are visible, and that makes him look even taller. The dark in his hair is totally natural, something that happened when he was nine or ten, and he loves it to death. He used to hide it, but now he styles his hair so everyone can see it, and grins proudly at every comment. And he doesn’t just get tall and a new hairstyle. He gets _muscles_ and those are pretty awesome, and his voice fills out and he’s all in all pretty big and cool. 

Sure, there’s also the mood swings that suddenly show up, somewhere during first year. Those… really suck. They knock him off his feet and leave Koutarou reeling. But he’s got Kuroo and Kenma to help, and they’re pretty cool about it, and he learns to deal and ignore what people say. Bad days come around, but Kenma also has bad days, and dealing is just life, so he downs the meds his parents have the doctor prescribe him, doesn’t let himself think too much, and keeps on steamrolling through his life.

High school is crazy and busy and hard and he loves it, and his third year is probably the best ever year. 

His eighteenth birthday comes rushing up to meet him, and the morning of it, he wakes up five minutes before his alarm clock. Koutarou is sometimes a morning person, and today is one of those days, as he jumps out of bed and slams a hand on the silent clock, so it won’t go off while he’s in the shower. A yawn and a stretch lead him out of his room, rolling his shoulders and groaning at a knot of tension in his right one. Spiking practice took its toll. 

The shower is hot, steaming and perfect, running down his back and head and arms just the way he likes it. While he spends his extra five minutes just standing there, letting the hot water cleanse him of his exhaustion, one hand reaches up to the feather tied around his neck. It’s scraggly and kinda stupid looking, according to Kuroo, but the glue and string he used so many years ago is still holding. He hasn’t taken it off in ten years, and that’s true dedication. Koutarou runs a fingers along its edge, then shrugs and goes to shampooing his hair.

One morning routine later, he’s running out the door with a piece of orange in his mouth, his hair sticking up how he likes it, his volleyball club jacket over his arm, and his bag clutched in one hand. 

It is a fifteen minute walk to the train station, but Koutarou always runs it in six. Today especially, with the spring in his step and energy coursing through him, his pace is faster than normal, and he reaches the station panting but grinning, the slice of orange gobbled up and his bag properly slung over his shoulder. Waiting means hopping in place, humming to himself not too quietly, until the train pulls up and he hurries in, making his way to the seat where he knows he’ll see Kenma and Kuroo. Sure enough, the two are huddled over Kenma’s game device, backs turned to Koutarou, so he sneaks up behind them and flops over their shoulders. 

“Your favorite guy is finally here!” he crows, ruffling Kenma’s hair and hanging on Kuroo just a little bit. 

Kenma just goes sort of limp and tries to shy away, but Kuroo knocks an elbow against Koutarou’s side and shoots him a cheshire grin. 

“How’s it feel to be an old man, huh?” 

Koutarou beams as wide as ever, patting Kuroo on the shoulder amicably. “I’ll tell you when you’re older, you wouldn’t understand!” 

“So high and mighty already? I’ll take you down yet!” 

“Oh no you won’t, I’ll take you down first!” 

Kenma groans and shuffles away as the two scuffle together, tossing useless threats and laughing loudly. 

-

Classes are boring as ever, and Koutarou nearly falls asleep during second period, but during lunch Kenma gives him an extra lunch container, which holds a bunch of little sugar cookies, the ones without frosting like Koutarou likes.They disappear in a solid nine minutes, much to Kuroo's dismay when he finally makes an appearance. 

"I deserve your birthday cookies!" he whines, distress obvious in his voice. He flops down beside Kenma, who immediately moves to stretch across Kuroo's lap, game in hand. 

"You ate half the batter while we made those. Relax." Kenma's voice is soft, but Koutarou laughs loudly. 

"You can have some of my lunch!" Lunch is rice and barbecue pork and some vegetables and a can of some tropical juice, and Koutarou finds a back of chocolates at the bottom of his lunch box. The lunch container nestles in his lap while he nibbles happily, poking at it with his chopsticks and occasionally feeding Kenma bites and letting Kuroo steal bits and pieces. Chocolates are passed around, Koutarou gobbles up the vegetables from Kuroo's lunch while Kuroo takes Kenma's fish, and by the end of lunch they are happy and sated. It's a natural way they act, simple and almost rehearsed, they've been doing it for so long. 

As the three are packing up, something catches Koutarou's eye. They're sitting outside under a tree, like they always do, surrounded by other students, but that's not what Koutarou sees. It's a flash of movement, high up and somewhere around the top of the tree. But Koutarou dismisses it, prancing off to class with Kuroo and waving goodbye to Kenma. 

Sitting in class, Koutarou pretends to listento the teacher, but his thoughts are distant. There's something tugging at his thoughts, while his fingers tug absently on the feather tied around his neck. Something that Koutarou feels like he's forgotten, or something he's supposed to do. 

"Bokuto-kun, is there something more interesting about the windows?" 

His teacher's voice makes him jump, hands slapping down to his desk and a blush covering across his cheeks. 

"Yes sensei–I MEAN! No, sensei!" 

There's snickers around the class, while Koutarou quietly lets his shame burn itself out. Ten minutes is all it takes, while he doodles on the edge of his worksheet. Spirals turn to circles, two little circles a point between, little flicks of curls surrounding and stretching down, until when Koutarou looks down, he sees a little owl on his paper. It's not a very good owl, seeing as Koutarou isn't a very good artist, but it's definitely an owl. A little black owl, that would have star filled, emerald and blue eyes if he had colored pens. 

He doesn't know why he's thinking so much about the owl. It's been ten years. The owl is probably dead, if it even existed. But he has the feather, and his scarf is gone... and there's something that still sticks with Koutarou, even ten years later. 

The bell’s loud buzz doesn’t even stir him from his spot, he’s so lost in thought. It’s Kuroo, flicking him lightly on the head that gets him, and Koutarou scrambles up and chases after him, after packing his stuff up.

Feathers and owls will be saved for later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im uh im on tumblr if u want?  
> http://4hoots.tumblr.com/  
> ya  
> akaashi is here next chapter i SWEAR  
> this fic is going? nowhere  
> lol  
> thanks kids i love bokuto koutarou


	3. THREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO KIDS HAPPY NEW YEARS LOL  
> IM SITTING WITH ONE OF MY TWO FAVORITE PEOPLE IN THE WORLD  
> NEW YEARS SUKIYAKI BINCHES  
> here it is AKAASHI IS HERE  
> unbetad like usual  
> hey kids y'all r great

Volleyball practice goes late, tiring Koutarou out completely and entirely. Even though it’s his birthday, he doesn’t let himself slack off, even if he gets moody when Kuroo keeps blocking his spikes. Kenma gives him a look, they switch it up, get past Kuroo, and Koutarou’s mood bounces back. By the time practice has wrapped up, his hair is getting a little limp and floppy and Koutarou’s feet are dragging, a yawn stretching his mouth over and over again. He nearly falls asleep on the train ride home, and Kenma pokes him awake so he gets off at the right stop. Kuroo is fast asleep on Kenma’s other side, face-planted against the younger boy’s shoulder. Koutarou smiles sleepily, but stumbles off the train and drags his feet home. 

A light drizzle of rain has started to fall down, and that only makes his poor hair worse. By the time he reaches home, he’s already run his hands through the loosening strands to push it back. It’s floppy and a total mess. His jacket’s shoulders are uncomfortably damp when he hangs it up inside the door. 

“Koutarou, is that you?” His mother sounds tired too, but at least she doesn’t sound snippy. “I made dinner, it’s on the stove!” 

“Thanks!” he calls back, trudging up the stairs, his bag dragging on the floor. Koutarou’s room is clean only because he’s rarely in it, and he just drops his bag in the middle of his floor, along with his wet shoes. The room is stuffy, so he opens the window a little, breathing in the fresh night air. It’s not windy, so he doesn’t have to worry about the rain blowing into his room. With a pair of sweatpants in hand, he heads out of his room again. Back out in the hall, he grabs a towel, and heads straight to the bathroom. 

A shower is just what he needs, and he almost falls asleep right then and there, forehead pressed to the wall. But he doesn’t, and he manages to turn off the water and step out, and even give himself a thorough rub down to dry himself off. His damp, dirty clothes don’t make it off the floor in the corner of the bathroom, but the clean sweatpants do make it onto his body, hanging a little too low, thanks to the elastic giving out. His towel ends up hanging on his head as Koutarou stumbles out of the bathroom, flipping the light off and the fan on. The rumble his stomach gives him is enough of a clue what he needs to do next. 

Sure enough, there’s a pot of curry on the stove, the kind with extra chunks of meat, the sauce a little extra salty. Perfect. Rice barely makes it into his bowl, and the curry nearly spills half a dozen times, but somehow, he gets a bowl of food and a can of soda in his hand and he’s free to go back up to his room. Koutarou’s movements are all getting laggy, and he would laugh if it was someone else. As it is, he nearly falls going back up the stairs, and when he reaches his closed door to his room, he just stares at it. He can’t open a door, both his hands are full. 

The soda can ends up barely held in one hands while he cradles his bowl of food, barely getting the door open so he can back into the room and kick the door shut. Turning around, he blinks slowly, then freezes.  


There’s a boy in his room. 

The soda can drops. 

There’s a beautiful, dark haired, pale boy sitting on his bed. He’s wearing a yellow and black scarf.

Koutarou only narrowly misses dropping an entire bowl of hot curry all over his pale carpet.

“Hello,” the boy says. _Hums_ is a better word. His voice is like magical singing. “You sheltered me before. I was hoping… you could care for me again, like you did as a child.” 

Koutarou just squawks. “ _WHAT?!”_

-

“So like… Lemme get this straight. Ten years ago, I rescued an owl.” 

“Yes.” 

“That owl was the prince of an… owl kingdom.

“Yes.” 

“You’re that prince.” 

“Yes.” 

“You need my help now? Cause you’re running from bad guys?”  


“Yes.”

“You’re… an owl prince.” 

“Yes.” 

“Am I dreaming?” 

“No.” 

After a solid minute of silent staring, Koutarou shakes his head in dazed confusion. “I’ve got the prince of the owls—who is now a human—in my room. What is happening!” 

“Oh, I can go over it again, if you would like…” The owl prince looks a little hesitant, his eyes widening briefly. 

“No no it’s fine! Just repeating stuff so I can start believing it.” He doesn’t believe it. He probably passed out in the shower, and this is all one big hallucination. Koutarou looks back to the owl prince, really giving him a once over. 

The guy looks to be _about_ Koutarou’s age. Maybe smaller? His hair is all dark, shiny, curling around his face. He’s in some sort of white shirt and pants, and both look weirdly out of place. Like they’re from a world that’s just a little altered. He looks normal enough, expect for the little white streak in his hair, and that confuses Koutarou, but he’ll ask later. 

“Sorry, what’s your name again?” It’s the only thing he can think to ask. 

“I am Akaashi Keiji.” 

Koutarou sticks out a hand, smiling as brightly as he can. “Bokuto Koutarou, at your service, Prince Akaashi!” 

Immediately, the owl prince shakes his head. “No, I am no prince right now, Bokuto-san. Please, keep your voice down.” 

“Oh! Um!” This time in a whisper, Koutarou tries again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m Bokuto, hi! Uh… Are you.. hungry?” This is weird. This is really weird. He’s shirtless, sitting on his bed with a random guy that claims to be a prince, an _owl_ prince. What the hell. 

“I would… yes. I am very hungry.” The owl prince—Akaashi, Koutarou corrects himself, looks nervous. He also looks pretty tired, and Koutarou knows how to be a good host. It’s late, surely the guy wants to sleep. 

“Here!” Reaching down to the floor where he set the bowl of curry, he hands it to Akaashi with another smile. There’s a spoon stuck in it, because even tired Koutarou knew chopsticks are a bad idea for tired teenagers, and Akaashi takes is hesitantly. “Ummmm um I’m gonna get you clothes! Just a sec.” 

Akaashi watches him as he hops up off the bed, making a beeline to his dresser. Akaashi looks thinner than him, less… muscley. So Koutarou pulls out an old pair of pajamas, plaid red plaid, as well as a t-shirt and a hoodie. He hesitates for a moment, then adds a pair of socks and briefs to the pile. The guy looks like he’d be the time to wear briefs instead of boxers, and they’re clean! He turns around again, and beams when he sees Akaashi taking little bites of the curry. 

“Good, huh? Mom makes the best!” 

Akaashi only nods. 

“Here, uh. These should fit you! You’re gonna want some pajamas, and I thought you might be cold!” Offering the clothes to Akaashi with what he _hopes_ is a reassuring smile, Koutarou continues rambling a little. “I have no idea what I’m doing here but like tell me if you need anything and yeah I’ll turn around so you can change? Okay turning now!” True to his word, he spins around and stares back at his dresser. 

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” he heard Akaashi’s soft voice say, and then there’s some rustling noises, which Koutarou assumes means Akaashi is changing. 

“So like are you hiding just for tonight? Are you gonna leave in the morning like last time?” Koutarou can’t help the questions, he’s a curious boy! And he wants to know everything about this. 

“I don’t know,” is all he gets. 

“Okay. Cool…” 

A few awkward moments of silence later, all Koutarou can hear are the soft sounds of a spoon against a bowl, so he assumes it’s safe to turn around. What he’s not prepared for it the picture of Akaashi sitting cross legged in his bed, the curry held in his lap, the clothes looking a little too big. Koutarou is but a teenager, and Akaashi is very attractive, and Koutarou is very, very unsure what to do. 

“Okay! Clothes! I will put these… away…” He gingerly picks up the strange white garments, and hangs drapes them a little haphazardly across the floor by his dresser. After he’s done that, there’s really nothing else to do. He doesn’t have anything to distract himself with. No, wait! The soda! He quickly scoops it up before planting himself on the bed, sitting cross legged a few feet away. Soda always makes him grin, and he’s happy to crack it open and sip it quietly, stealing glances at the owl prince. 

“You may ask questions, you know.” Akaashi’s voice startles him, but what shocks him more is the tiny smile that accompanies the words. 

“I can? Wow! I dunno where to really start!” 

What do you ask a guy who claims to be a bird prince that showed up in your house and claims to be a literal owl you rescued ten years ago? Koutarou is very lost. 

“Anything you like.”

Koutarou thinks for a minute, before shrugging. 

“Let’s start of broad! Where do you live?” 

Akaashi takes another bite of curry, chews, swallows, and sets the bowl aside, placing his hands in his lap. He blinks slowly, then looks up to meet Koutarou’s eyes, taking a breath. 

“I live in the shattered reflection of your world.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plz i lov all of u when u comment or kudo i'm an attention ho  
> THE FIRST THING I DID OF THIS NEW YEAR WAS WRITE A BOKUAKA ONESHOT  
> OTS GOT HUGS AND TEARS AND SWEETNESS  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/9149101  
> anyways yeah idk where this is going and school starts on tuesday i'm gonna Die and these rapid updates are gonna slow tf down i'm sorry  
> IM ON TUMBLR?????  
> http://4hoots.tumblr.com  
> come love me  
> i lov u all  
> bye bye THANK U FOR READING  
> (lol "i live in the shattered reflection of your world" akaashi ur so fuckin edgy)


	4. FOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love naming my chapters just NUMBER its great  
> anyways kids  
> I? HAVE? A? BETA?  
> pancakes-and-sixpacks on tumblr G O D FREAKING BLESS THEM HHHHH  
> so it should be remmebered that bokuto is shirtless throughout this whole chapter  
> also lol i thirst after BOTH these characters so  
> ur gonna get. thirsty bokuto  
> (i can assure u aka is just as thirsty holy crap have u sEEN BOKUTO?!)

“The… shattered reflection of my world?” Koutarou is very, very confused. 

Thankfully, Akaashi doesn’t laugh at him, just nods, and murmurs, “Yes, I will explain.” 

“Okay okay but like one second here, I need to get comfy!” 

They’re still sitting up, and there’s still a half eaten bowl of curry on the bed, and that needs to be changed. So he reaches over to grab the bowl, and sets it on the ground out of danger’s way. (After quickly devouring the rest of the now cooled curry.) The empty soda can gets tossed into the trash basket in the corner of his room, and Koutarou takes a moment to pump his fist in victory when it lands directly in the basket. 

When he looks back to Akaashi, the prince is giving him a strange look. He looks a little mystified, but also curious, so Koutarou winks at him, stretching out on the edge of his bed with his arms pillowing his head. 

“Okay so like, is your world the dark, edgy version of mine?” 

Akaashi laughs, and Koutarou’s heart does like fifty flips. In one second. It’s the most beautiful laugh Koutarou has ever heard, and it could probably cure all sadness in the world. But he plays it cool, just shrugging a little sheepishly, and turning on his side so he can better listen to whatever it is Akaashi is going to tell him.

“No, Bokuto-san. Just listen, and I will tell you.” 

-

_Imagine the world is a mirror. Perfect, silver, containing everything you know. It is what you would consider the “original” world. But pressed up against that world is another mirror, only this one is broken, missing large pieces. Fragmented. Only parts of a world that used to be much larger. It is the same, for the most part, as the whole mirror world._

_The problem with this second world is that it has lost so much of itself, that the remaining pieces are no longer connected. The only way to get from piece to piece is by jumping out of that world and into the first, using it to get to the other fragments. Tedious and dangerous._

_Besides the fact the second world is a mess from being so broken, the world is very different. The rules of the first world do not apply. They grow in different directions, and as the people inside change, so do the worlds. The first is not a world of creativity. While it has new things every day, it is not a world of individual creativity. And where the second flourishes in individual power and creation, it lacked in order. Its people became scattered, losing their original form, creating a society based on power and strength and not on what was just and fair._

_The people of the second world lost their humanity. Well, most of them. A select few rose above, becoming the ruling court, the reigning family, the ones who knew just how to utilize the power possessed by this shattered world. Power gave them the upper hand, and with it they controlled the shards of that fragmented world._

_But some did not agree with this. They rose up against the reigning family, they fought back, they brought chaos and destruction and death to the high and mighty ones._

_And they high and mighty reigning family… they fled. They scattered to the farthest shards of their world. And their son, their prince, he went farther. He went to the whole world, where he had once been helped before._

-

“Hey, Akaashi?” His voice is a little sleepy and rough from disuse. 

Akaashi looks down at him and raises an eyebrow.

“So like… you’re the prince, right? And you’re running from people that wanna take down you and your family?” 

Akaashi nods, tilting his head to stare up at the ceiling. He doesn’t look scared, and Koutarou is impressed. If someone was going after him and his family, he’s pretty sure he would be flat out terrified. 

“For now, I have to stay very far away. I need to pretend to be something I’m not, right now. I haven’t been like this in a very long time.” 

“Like this?” Confusion is back in Koutarou’s voice. 

Gesturing down to his body, Akaashi says, “Human. Or human in form. Normally I am… more feathered. Often smaller. You saw, many years ago.” 

Of course Koutarou remembers, but it’s still hard for him to connect the tiny, wet owl with the downright gorgeous boy sitting in front of him. And Akaashi really is gorgeous. Even in the old hoodie and pajamas, which aren’t exactly flattering, Akaashi is more beautiful than literally anyone Koutarou as ever seen. Kenma is pretty gorgeous, but Akaashi makes Koutarou’s heart speed up just sitting there, and it’s something he has no idea what to do with. 

“Speaking of my feathers… that one is mine, isn’t it.” Akaashi reaches down to gently brush his fingertips against the feather, and seeing as Koutarou still isn’t wearing a shirt, against his bare skin. 

“Uh, yeah! I kept it! I kinda like it, ya know?” He’s blushing, he knows it. And who can blame him! Akaashi is attractive and has his fingers on Koutarou’s bare chest. He didn’t even just use one or two, oh no. All five fingers are lightly pressed on his bare chest, and Koutarou would probably be falling over and passing out if he wasn’t already lying down. 

“You are a strange human, Bokuto-san.” 

Koutarou is frozen in place, held by Akaashi’s eyes. They are a little different in his human form, but still so, so beautiful. The stars are gone, but the deep, hidden glow is still there. Holding him captivated and just as awestruck as when he was eight years old, Akaashi’s eyes seem to be pinning him down. He has nothing to say while Akaashi stares, just lays there and lets the prince hold him captive. 

“You should also sleep. You were tired, before I showed up.” The hand draws away, and Akaashi reaches up to start fluffing the pillows, poking them and prodding them, then pulling the blanket out from under Koutarou and pulling it over Koutarou. 

“Uh, aren’t you—Wait a second! You take my bed, I’ll sleep on the floor!” Koutarou scrambles to get out of bed, but freezes with one leg out of bed when he feels Akaashi’s hand on his shoulder, keeping him from leaving. 

“We have shared your bed before. We can do it again.”

“I—WHAT?! No! I was a kid! You were an _OWL!”_ Koutarou protests _loudly,_ but Akaashi just looks at him with steady gaze, and pushes lightly on his shoulder. And Koutarou actually likes sleeping with people, in the non-sex way, so he slowly goes down and lays flat on his back, stiff as a board. It’s awkward as hell. The light is also still on, and he really needs to turn it off, so he slowly starts to pull himself away so he can get up and do just that. 

“Wait,” Akaashi whispers, and his hand on Koutarou’s shoulder presses a little harder. Koutarou watches as Akaashi’s eyes screw shut, his tongue sticks out just the littlest bit, and then his eyes fly open and with a small pop from up above them, the lights blink out. 

“What did you just…” 

“I turned off the lights.” 

Koutarou is too stunned. This whole night is too much for him to deal with, so he just falls against his pillow, confusion and exhaustion and awe and something he can’t describe mixing up in his head in a soup of emotions he can’t explain. 

A soft pressure on his chest alerts Koutarou that Akaashi has laid down as well, with his head right over Koutarou’s heart. Either Akaashi’s people have no sense of personal space, or Akaashi is just really cuddly. But it’s not like Koutarou can complain, when the physical contact feels like the best thing he’s ever felt, and he can’t do anything but lay there as still as possible so he doesn’t bother Akaashi. 

“Relax. I will be here in the morning and we can talk more.”

Akaashi’s voice is soft, like a sweet, hushed lullaby, and Koutarou relaxes the tension he doesn’t even realize he was holding. There’s something about this owl prince that has a power over Koutarou, something he can’t explain.

So, seeing as he can’t really do anything else, he let’s out a long breath, closes his eyes, and lets sleep overtake him. Maybe it will be like ten years ago, and he’ll wake up and Akaashi will be gone, along with this clothes. But Akaashi said he would be there, and Koutarou… Koutarou believes him. Sleep is the only option, and so sleep Koutarou does. With an owl prince on his chest and a million questions, Koutarou drifts off into a heavy doze. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akaashi. he fuckin. bROKE THE LIGHT TO TURN IT OFF FPPHFHFH
> 
> i want to fall asleep on bokuto koutarou! why cant i! why is the world so unfair!  
> anyways ya have fun i just started school so im tRYING SO HARD TO KEEP UP BY WRITING CHAPTERS AHEAD OF TIME but like  
> im sorry if they get a lil short for a lil while  
> this story is such a mess lol  
> im 4hoots on tumblr im Desperate  
> thankyuu for readin


	5. FIVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO AGAIN   
> my birthday is in five days   
> friday the thirteenth   
> there's a teacher at my school named jason  
> HERE IS MORE BOKUAKA! beta'd by pancakes-and-sixpacks on tumblr !!   
> (also shameless self promo i wrote a kagehina wing au oneshot thingy if ya,, wanna read that,,,,)   
> HERE WE GO. SANDWICH TIME.

No alarm wakes Koutarou. No blaring noise that rattles his poor brain. No jolt of shock that has him leaping out of bed as fast as lighting. What wakes him is bright, bright light, flooding through his room and searing his eyes as they slowly blink open. There's a very noticeable sense that something is wrong as he lays there in bed and stares at his ceiling with bleary eyes. 

"Good morning. Your phone keeps buzzing." 

Koutarou startles at the voice, bolting upright and looking around widely. "Who's the–" When he sees a pair of dark eyes peering at him from the foot of his bed, he blinks. Dark eyes are attached to a pretty face, and the face to a head and a neck and the rest of Akaashi's gorgeous body, and everything comes rushing back to Koutarou in a single second. 

"So you're still here. What time is it..?" he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm.He's still too tired to even look over at his clock. 

"The sun is nearly as high as it'll get. Are you hungry?" Akaashi is sitting cross legged at the foot of his bed, running his fingers through his hair. Maybe it's supposed to be like brushing it, but if anything it just makes Akaashi's hair look even messier. It's a good look. 

"Are you going to get up?" 

Koutarou groans. He's not sleepy anymore, but he's comfortable, and he doesn't really feel like moving. The bed is nice. But he stretches, arms way above his head, yawns, and sighs. "Okay. I'll get up. Have you eaten? Oh wait, you didn't–did you go out of my room?" 

Akaashi shakes his head. "No, I've stayed in here and watched you." 

If Koutarou was more awake, he would probably raise an eyebrow but that. Instead, all he does is shrug and get up, stretch again, and turn to Akaashi. "Mom and Dad will be at work by now. Wanna go find some food? It's too late to go to school." He'll text Kenma and Kuroo and tell them it's a bad day. There's some guilt about lying, but he needs to keep Akaashi safe. 

A moment of hesitation is all it takes for Akaashi to unfold his legs and rise up to follow Koutarou. They're quiet while they walk, Koutarou because he's still waking up. There's not a sound from behind him where Akaashi is walking, even though they've left the thick carpet of Koutarou's room. The hard floor of the hall is chilly against his feet, and he wishes he'd grabbed a pair of socks. 

They reach the kitchen quickly, and Koutarou pauses. "Um, this is the kitchen. Food is in various shelves and the fridge and stuff. Sit on a chair or on the counter, wherever. I'm gonna make sandwiches." 

He can feel Akaashi's eyes on him while he moves around, but Koutarou tries not to focus on that, and focus on getting ingredients for sandwiches instead. Bread is easy, and then lettuce and cucumbers and cheese and mayonnaise. He has no idea what kind of stuff Akaashi likes, so he grabs peanut butter and blackberry jam and honey, and sets to work. Akaashi watches from the side, glancing around the kitchen with curious eyes. He sort of looks like he's holding himself back, so Koutarou turns to him while holding a tomato and a pack of lunch meat. 

"You can look around. Just don't break anything! Have fun and stuff, it's fine." 

His words seem to set off a spark in Akaashi, as he quickly starts looking around in earnest. After looking over the kitchen with just his eyes, the prince opens drawers and cabinets and turns the sink on and off, opens the oven, even sticks his face in the freezer. 

"Your house is surprisingly similar to mine," he says while holding up a rubber spatula. "I didn't expect it to be so close to home. My parents spoke as if this world was... extremely different." 

"Is your world uh. More advanced? Or uh... less advanced?" Koutarou carefully slices one of the cucumbers, careful not to nick his fingers. 

"Neither. I don't know. I have running water, like you, and your... fridge. Everything here is similar. But different. It's hard to explain." 

Koutarou is curious; he's _so_ curious _._ But he also doesn't want to be nosey, and it seems like Akaashi tells him things without too much prompting. 

"You may ask questions, Bokuto-san." 

"How did you–" Koutarou starts, but shakes it off. He knows he's easy to read, that's an easy explanation. "Okay, uh. Why the honorific? Do you guys use those?" 

Akaashi shakes his head. "No. I speak a different language at home. But I learned this world's language during lessons. I was curious." The next words are a little muffled, as Akaashi now has climbed onto the counter and is poking his head in a large cabinet. "The honorific is because you saved me. I owe you a debt, and so you are deserving of respect." 

By that logic, it's a solid reason, so Koutarou doesn't even bother questioning that particular bit further. "Okay, that makes sense. But I wanna know about you!" He turns, holding a plate of various sandwiches, smiling. "Tell me about yourself while we eat? Oh, and grab the orange juice from the fridge!"

He makes his way to the table to set the plate down, adjusting a few of the pieces and then going back to grab two glasses. Akaashi joins him at the table with the orange juice held in both hands. 

"Is this the right one?" he asks. 

"Yep, that's it! Now let's eat!" Koutarou realizes he's starving as he reaches over for the first sandwich, a ham and lettuce one, and wolfs it down in three bites. They're all cut in diagonals for easy eating, which makes it way to easy to eat them way too fast. 

He watches as Akaashi eyes the sandwiches, then gingerly reaches out to pick up one with peanut butter and jam. Koutarou watches with rapt attention as Akaashi delicately nibbles on the corner. A second later, his eyes blow wide, and he takes another bigger bite and then another, and in a few seconds the sandwich is gone. 

"Pretty good, huh?" 

Akaashi nods mutely, as a small, happy smile pulls at his lips. He chews for a while, swallows, but doesn't open his mouth. "It's–" he mumbles, licking his lips and teeth, while his eyebrows furrow in confusion. "My mouth?" Akaashi's voice is muffled, and it's then that Koutarou realizes.

"Peanut butter! Oh man, your mouth is all stuck shut! Ha!" he slaps the table in a laugh, giggling madly while he watched Akaashi struggle with cleaning his mouth. But Koutarou has pity pretty quickly, so he pours Akaashi a glass of orange juice and offers it to the prince, saying, "Here, drink." 

Akaashi gladly accepts the drink, gulping down half the glass and sighing as he finally opens his mouth. "I like that. Is there more?" 

Koutarou laughs even louder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the world should know that before this was beta'd, i wrote "Koutarou turns to him while holding a tomorrow and a pack of lunch meat" and i dunno but that really describes me as a person   
> i was GOING to combine this chapter with the next, but my dudes,, i need to always have at least one chapter kept away so i dont feel bad for not writing. idk its a,, coping this rip me  
> ANYWAYS YEAH WELCOME TO AKAASHI EXPLORING THIS WORLD   
> tumblr is 4hoots   
> everything is 4hoots........... sighs   
> thank for readin my dudes  
> bokuto is still shirtless


	6. SIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feh motivation is gone but here we are  
> im really not great at writing more than two characters im sorry  
> this isn't the best but. it's what i have  
> ye  
> bokuto is thirsty  
> BETA'D BY pancakes-and-sixpacks ON TUMBLR

Their brunch lasts for about half an hour, which Koutarou spends delighting about Akaashi's various reactions to each sandwich. They discover that Akaashi loves peanut butter, tomatoes, cheese, lettuce, and bread. But he hates ham and cucumbers, and despises mustard so much that he rushes to the sink the first time he tries it to wash out his mouth. Koutarou laughs. He does a lot of laughing, during that half hour. By the end of it, they're both full and happy and smiling. Akaashi thanks him and helps Koutarou carry their dishes to the sink. 

"I like that meal. The food last night was good too, but I think I like those better." 

Koutarou promises him they can have more, and they make their way to the living room. When Akaashi showed up, he just asked Koutarou to care for him, so Koutarou is a little lost. He supposes he might as well just treat Akaashi like a friend he has over. It's not totally inaccurate. He likes Akaashi, and he's pretty sure Akaashi at least doesn't dislike him, so... normally when Kuroo or Kenma or both of them come over, they play games. Video games. 

"Hey, wanna play video games?" 

Akaashi gives him a weird look. "Bokuto-san," he says, blinking slowly. It's a little owlish, Koutarou observes. "You'll have to teach me. There are... VidSims at home, but I don't really think those are the same." 

Koutarou very quickly agrees, even if he wants to ask about VidSims, and the end up flopped on the couch. Well, Koutarou flops and makes himself comfortable. Akaashi sits, cross legged again, with his hands on his knees. It's the same position he was sitting in when Koutarou woke up, as well as the same as when he ate curry last night. It's like it's just Akaashi's natural pose. Koutarou actually kinda likes it a lot. 

"Okay so first, we need controllers. And a game. Let's go... racing!" He has to get up again, much to his displeasure, to grab the two controllers and toss them to Akaashi. After fiddling with the system and screen for a minutes, he returns to the couch and settles back down. 

"So this is like... virtual reality! The left toggle thing is steering, the right one is speed, at least for this game, and all the others are more fun stuff!" 

The look Akaashi is wearing is more than skeptical, but Koutarou isn't very good at explaining things. 

"You'll figure it out!" 

The skeptical look only intensifies, so Koutarou decides to just go ahead and start the game. 

Six seconds is how long Akaashi survives, and only after a good twenty minutes of trial and error do they get through a full race. Sure, Akaashi comes last by a lot, but at least they get a full race completed. 

Koutarou mostly likes watching Akaashi nibble on his lip while he concentrates, mumbling quietly to himself. It's adorable. 

"You sure you wanna keep playing this? I can find something else if ya want!" he offers after a little while, but Akaashi shakes his head no. 

"I will beat you," he simply says, sitting up straighter and adjusting his controller. "Again, please." 

"Well if you insist!" Koutarou laughs, and resets the game so they can start again. 

That game lasts barely any time at all, but Akaashi comes second to last, and Koutarou third, so maybe the tables are turning! But then right after that, Akaashi manages to die within ten seconds, so maybe there was just a brief streak of luck. 

"Are you sure you wanna continue..?" Koutarou asks, a little hesitant. He doesn't want to upset Akaashi, and he knows he gets pretty upset after multiple, consecutive losses. 

But Akaashi doesn't even get the chance to answer. While they're both sitting there, completely unaware of their surroundings, too lost in the game not a minute ago to hear the knock... the door opens, to reveal a grumpy looking Kenma. 

"Koutarou," he mutters, one hand falling from the door. "You have a lot of explaining to do. 

"KENMA! Hey!" Koutarou flies up from the couch to hurriedly shove Kenma out the door, and slam it shut behind them. Kenma doesn't fight, just lets himself be pushed along out onto the doorstep. However, that's as far as he allows it, and he turns to face Koutarou. 

"Who is that?” 

"Nobody!" he squeaks. 

"You're bad at lying." 

Koutarou deflates. Kenma is too good at seeing right through him. It's a talent the younger boy has. That, or Koutarou is just bad at hiding things. It's very likely the second one, when he thinks about it. 

"He's uh... it's... it's a long story?" he tries, giving Kenma a sheepish, puppy dog look. 

"So try. Kuro is getting worried. You haven't responded to texts. He's stuck tutoring again. Sent me. Explain." Kenma's eyes are blazing, and Koutarou vaguely remembers how terrifying the guy can be when he wants to. It's a battle of wills, the two of them the only contestants, and Koutarou loses. After all, he can trust Kenma, and he's going to need help, he just knows it. 

"Why don't you just... come talk to him..." Koutarou mumbles, trudging back inside and holding the door open for Kenma. He shuts the door slowly, and even remembers to lock it. No more surprise intruders. When he turns around, Akaashi and Kenma are staring at each other. They both look calm, but Kenma has his hands out of his pockets, hanging limply at his side. Koutarou has known him long enough to know that means trouble. Akaashi has merely turns and set the controller down, his eyes narrowing to slits. But even so, he's obviously not glaring. His hands are tense on his legs, Koutarou notices. 

"Let's just... sit?" 

"Who is he?” Akaashi being the first one to speak is both surprising and expected. If it was anyone else, Koutarou would have expected them to speak, but seeing as Kenma is someone of so few words, Akaashi speaking first isn't surprising. 

"I'm Kozume Kenma. Koutarou'a friend." Kenma doesn't add anything extra. But it's nice to here Kenma had his friendship with Koutarou to his introduction. 

"Akaashi Keiji. I've known him for a long time." It's totally unsurprising that Akaashi doesn't call Koutarou a friend, but there's still a little bit of him that wishes it had happened. 

"Why are you here?" 

Akaashi hesitates, but goes on. "I needed help. He's helped me before, after all." 

That sends Kenma for a loop. Koutarou tells him and Kuroo everything after all, so Kenma is probably wondering what it means, so Koutarou jumps in. 

“Uh, so like. Remember that owl from when we were kids?" 

"Yes."

Koutarou lifts a slow finger up, to point at Akaashi. "That's the guy. Ha. Haha.." 

A full minute of silence goes by, and Kenma doesn't even blink. He just stands there, looking impassive as ever, minus the now clenched fists. 

"We're calling Kuro," is what he finally says. Koutarou let's out a sigh, but as he knows telling Kuroo was an inevitability, he nods in agreement. 

"Okay, Kuroo. But you two," he gestures between Akaashi and Kenma, "have to at least pretend to get along. Got it?" 

Both nod, in unison. It's the best he'll get, for now. Kenma has never made friends easily, and Koutarou will take what we can get. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could write a lot about how entrancing akaashi is  
> 4hoots on tumblr?  
> ya  
> muse and motivation arent doing too hot rn lol  
> thanks 4 readin


	7. SEVEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am sick and mental illness cocktail aint doing so hot so updates are  
> slow  
> i also have a play going on so im trying to do that and this and keep grades up and such :">   
> ye   
> here we go

Ten minutes is all it takes for Koutarou to make the unpleasant discovery that Akaashi and Kenma… do not get along. Koutarou takes all of one minute to run and grab a shirt, seeing as he’s apparently forgotten to put one on all day, but comes back to the most unpleasant tension a room can contain. Kenma ends up sitting on the armchair nearest the door, folding his legs under him and keeping his hands in his lap. Sitting like that, with his eyes a little unfocused, a lock of hair falling in front of his eyes, most people would assume Kenma is spaced out, but Koutarou knows better. Ever watchful, even when he looks lost or dazed, that’s how Kenma is. 

Akaashi is the one Koutarou can’t read. While he did look almost a little disappointed when Koutarou came back into the room, he’s unreadable. He’s still sitting on the couch, but the controller is set on the empty space beside him, and he isn’t moving. Or blinking. Or even breathing..? He just sits there, eyes tracking Koutarou while he paces back and forth in front of them. 

“Koutarou,” Kenma starts, raising his voice just loud enough to be heard. “You’re stressing. Kuro will be here, we’ll explain it.” 

“Kozume,” Akaashi interjects, his eyes finally leaving Koutarou and gravitating towards Kenma. “You have very little part in this.” 

The tension is practically palpable, hanging between the two, just like Koutarou is currently hovering. In no world did he ever prepare himself to deal with this bizarre hostility. Something about the flash in Kenma’s eyes as they dart over to Akaashi makes Koutarou a little worried and a tiny bit protective. Protective over whom… he isn’t sure. These are two important people; one is one of his best friends, the other is someone who’s been lingering around Koutarou’s life for a long time. 

A knock at the door, another five minutes later, is a lifesaver. Koutarou nearly trips over his own feet rushing to the door, eager for something to cut the unpleasant aura in the room. The door is flung open with exuberant relief, and the sight of his friend’s mess of hair has his shoulders sagging in even _more_ relief. 

“Kuroo! You’re here! Hello! Important things are happening!” 

Kuroo wastes no time in pushing his way into the house, but makes it all of a few steps before he freezes. 

“That is _not_ someone we know.” He is, of course, talking about Akaashi, who is now turned around to look at Kuroo with a blank expression. 

“This is Koutarou’s new friend. It’s _him._ ” Kenma’s emphasis on the last word seems to bring Kuroo to some sort of recognition, and that confuses Koutarou. He’s never spoken about Akaashi. Akaashi has only been a recent development! Unless of course Kenma means _“he”_ is the owl from so many years ago, but that would be weird. Koutarou just called it “the owl.” And from what he can remember, he’d only mentioned it once. 

Whatever his thought process was going to give him, it’s interrupted by Akaashi’s smooth, melodious voice. 

“I am Akaashi Keiji.” And whoa, Koutarou would bend over backwards and balance plates on his nose if Akaashi asked him with that voice. It’s literally the most alluring, appealing, and enchanting voice Koutarou has ever heard in his _life._ But then Akaashi is speaking again, and Koutarou needs to focus.   


“I will be staying here. Bokuto-san is my keeper. He will take care of me,” he ends, blinking slowly once. There’s nothing polite about his words, but Koutarou is metaphorically drooling big time, completely entranced. 

Kuroo, however, is not as enticed. 

“So by some freaky explanation, you’re the owl that literally started Bokuto’s entire obsession for the bird, and you’re here, claiming my bro’s house?” Kuroo has every right to be suspicious, it’s true, but Koutarou kind of wants to jump in and explain. This is starting to be based on assumptions and stuff he might’ve said as a kid, and some clarity needs to be brought to the conversation.

“He’s the prince of the owls…” Koutarou drifts off, his explanation losing itself before it’s even begun. “Owl people, maybe? He’s an owl prince. From another reality!” Somewhere between Akaashi greeting Kuroo in his voice of pure seduction, Koutarou has made it back to pacing between Kenma and Akaashi in front of the TV. This way, he can gesture vaguely in the owl prince’s direction. Vague gestures help with every explanation. 

“Another reality?” comes Kenma’s quiet questioning tone, his interest finally showing in his eyes. 

“Yeah, another reality! He’s running from bad guys!”

“Bad guys? Seriously, man? You believe this?” 

Koutarou hesitates. He’s never _actually_ questioned the authenticity of the whole scenario. Sure, he’s been confused, and he’s definitely had a hard time believing some stuff for a second, but he’s taken what Akaashi has said pretty well, and hung on his every word. It’s not like Akaashi is his friend, there’s no reason to trust him. Yet there Koutarou is, putting blind faith in someone he barely knows! It makes him hesitate and overthink and he knows he’ll start to spiral if he’s not careful. 

“Oi, bro. Come back to us, you’ve been a little spacey..” Kuroo’s previously almost sharp tone has turned a little worried, and that especially snaps Koutarou back to reality. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m here! And… yeah. I believe him. I trust him, guys.” Koutarou glances between Kuroo and Kenma, trying to plead for solidarity with his eyes alone. “I’m trusting my gut, and my gut is telling me that Akaashi is a good guy, and he needs my help.” 

The four of them all just stare at each other, Koutarou waiting for the moment he’s hoping and praying will occur. Akaashi doesn’t look worried, but he does keep his eyes drawn on Koutarou. Oh, those beautiful eyes… Koutarou gets momentarily caught up, before glancing at Kenma and Kuroo again. They’re doing that thing again. It’s the thing where they have a silent conversation in a language Koutarou has never quite grasped. Neither are moving, save for tiny flickers in their expressions. Whatever it is, Kenma seems to be the one to have the final conclusion. 

“You can’t miss school to stay home with him,” is Kenma’s response, his posture relaxing a minute fraction. “He stands out, too.” 

It’s true, Koutarou knows this. Missing school is bad, and should only be reserved for when he’s actually having a real bad day, or he’s deathly ill. And boy, does Akaashi stand out. He talks and acts like them, sort of, but he’s noticeably _different._ He gets confused by basic things, he holds himself more elegantly than anyone Koutarou knows, and he’s… beautiful. Akaashi is too attractive to be some teenager at their school like everyone else. 

“So we need to make him blend in, forge some documents, and keep him hidden at night. This is gonna be fun!” Kuroo is almost laughing now, rubbing his hands together, the way he always does when he gets some horribly disastrous plan. “We dress him up to look normal, take him to school, and keep a close eye on him.” 

Akaashi glances between them all, his eyebrows drawing together in a delicate frown. “You intend to keep me in broad daylight, out in the open, where all can see?” 

“Like someone said, the best hiding place is the most obvious one!” 

Kenma gives Kuroo a look of distain and mild confusion, shaking his head. “That’s stupid. Even if it might work…” 

Even if the plan sounds kind of crazy, it also would mean Koutarou might get to keep Akaashi safe, and see him at school, and seeing Akaashi more, even if it is in lessons, sounds like a good idea. But before agreeing, he looks over to Akaashi to seek for some sort of confirmation that this is a good idea. 

The prince still looks calm, his eyes focused on a blank space somewhere near the door. They shift to meet Koutarou’s two slow blinks momentarily breaking the eye contact. It’s a heavy moment, and Koutarou shifts awkwardly while he waits. What he’s waiting for, exactly, he’s not entirely sure. 

“Alright.” 

Koutarou jumps forward, a bright grin spreading across his face. “Really? You’ll come to school with me? Awesome!” 

Akaashi smiles every slightly, and sighs in what seems to be resignation. “I’ve been studying this world long enough, I might as well take part in it.” 

There’s a small cheer from Koutarou and Kuroo, and even Kenma seems satisfied with the idea. 

“Operation Hide Akaashi is a go!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HE FINALLY HAS A SHIRT   
> in the words of my wonderful angel of a beta, pancakes-and-sixpacks on tumblr: "bokuto is parched af"   
> im 4hoots on tumblr   
> i need friends holy crap


	8. EIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //slides in with a mimosa and headphones blaring loud zelda music  
> whats up  
> so uh. this is unbeta-d and im posting from work....  
> haha...

Koutarou has many regrets. Being the type of person to act before thinking, his past is filled moments he wishes he could take back. Such as that time he accidentally stuck his hands in a vat of purple paint, and his hands were bright violet for a solid two weeks. Or the month he’d spent wearing a hat in summer because he accidentally cut off some of his hair. It was for the sake of satisfying his curiosity, he told Kenma and Kuroo! The zillions of times he forgot to study and failed a quiz, those regrets piled up fast. Koutarou never lingers on his regrets, but they definitely exist. 

 

The biggest regret of his entire life is the moment he let Kuroo and Kenma have their way with “disguising” Akaashi. 

 

They both disappear, leaving Koutarou alone with Akaashi again, and this time his nerves are going haywire. Akaashi is quiet, simply sitting next to him and watching Koutarou play video games. There is some chatter, all one sided, all ending in broken pauses. Neither seem to know what to say, but neither leave, so both simply exist beside each other. Ideas of what it will be like having Akaashi at school keep flashing through his head, but Koutarou resolutely focuses on his video game. It’s easy to focus on the flashes and sound effects, after all. They’re very attention drawing, even if the boy next to him seems to have cast some sort of spell on Koutarou. 

 

An hour later, Kenma and Kuroo return, much to Koutarou’s relief. He’s been told his fashion leaves something to be desired, and he has no idea how to do any other part of the whole “hide Akaashi” thing, so he’s glad when Kuroo drops two plastic bags of things on the couch. 

 

“We’ll just put him in your clothes for now,” Kuroo says, brushing off his hands like he just carried something heavy, not just two measly bags. “We got brown contacts, those will help with the eyes. Also, dark hair dye, cause buddy,” he glances to Akaashi, squinting. “That white stripe in your hair seriously stands out.” 

 

Akaashi actually reacts to that, his hand flying to his temple, where the offending hair is a little hidden by the rest of his dark curls. “My hair… alright…” 

 

“What is it, anyways?” Koutarou asks, curiosity getting the better of him. He can’t help but ask, as it seems the white stripe is important. 

 

“This is…” Akaashi is hesitant. _Hesitant._ His voice is almost soft, and when Koutarou meets his eyes, he can practically _feel_ the soft shyness radiating from Akaashi. “This is a link. Or, it is the side effect of a link.” 

 

Kuroo just raises an unimpressed eyebrow, while Koutarou keeps staring at Akaashi. He stares at Akaashi a lot, he realizes, but can anyone really blame him? 

 

“Anyway,” Kuroo moves on, ignoring the fact Koutarou is lost, yet again, in Akaashi’s eyes. “Mr. Vague, that streak is just gonna be covered up. Also, I grabbed my school file from last year, so we’re gonna use that as a reference for Akaashi’s fake one.” 

 

“Why do you even have that…” the sigh is from Kenma, who’s somehow managed to plant himself on the chair he was occupying earlier, his phone covering his face as he pokes away at it. 

 

Kuroo’s haughty sniff and hand wave of dismissal make Koutarou snort, while Kuroo just says, in the most lofty voice possible, “I have my sources.” 

 

Kenma isn’t impressed, just lowers his phone enough that he can glare at the two of them. “Or you’re a nerd, your mother is the principal, and for some reason you know how _filing_ works in a school.” The words are partnered with an almost haughty eyebrow. If it wasn’t Kenma, it would definitely be haughty. But coming from him, with the monotone voice and half lidded eyes, it’s just unamused and a little bit fond. 

 

The staged gasp of mock-hurt Kuroo gives makes Koutarou laugh even more, his nerves relaxing. Having his best friends to help him makes life a lot easier. 

 

“Could we please just get on with this?” 

 

Koutarou turns back to Akaashi and nods quickly, and pulls a bag close to him to rummage around in it. “Yeah! They’ll show us what to do so when we get ready for school tomorrow, it’ll be easy!” Easy is what he hopes it will be. But, if the nagging sense of trepidation is anything to go by, _“easy”_ is not going to the the adjective of choice when it comes to this operation. 

 

Akaashi looks skeptical as he pulls the other bag towards himself and reveals a pack of boxer brief underwear and a pack of socks. “I will reimburse you for all of these supplies,” he says, setting the things down and pulling out what seems to be a cheap, pay by the minute phone. “What is this?” He turns the phone over curiously, sliding it open to reveal the keypad. 

 

“Oh! That’s a phone! So we can talk to you! These two are geniuses!” 

 

Twin looks of mild amusement meet Koutarou’s enthusiasm, coupled with Kenma’s quiet, “You’ll be paying us back, Koutarou. For all of it.” Thankfully, that won’t be an issue. 

 

Koutarou groans and flops backward, holding up a manila envelope and a plain, grey folder. Papers spill from it and into his lap, some even landing on the floor. They look like official documents, with lots of boxes and lines with neat handwriting and signatures. He watches them float down, a forlorn look of despair crossing his face. Koutarou is many things, but graceful and careful are no on that list. 

 

“So this is the guy you chose to keep you some from the big bad evil guys?” Kuroo snickers, poking at a paper with his toe and glancing at Akaashi. “Of all the people in this place you choose big and clumsy.” 

 

“Yes,” Akaashi sighs, watching Koutarou with an unreadable gaze. “This is the one I chose as my keeper.” His words are certain, even if he looks like he is questioning his decision. His gaze lingers on Koutarou, unbeknownst to the other. For a second, his hand lifts as if to touch his face or hair, but quickly drops to his lap. 

 

Kuroo gives them a look, then bursts into raucous laughter. “Good freaking luck!” 

 

“You’re going to need it,” Kenma adds. 

 

Koutarou lets out a long whine, and another paper slips to the floor. 

-

 

It takes two hours and seventeen minutes to successfully complete Akaashi’s fake enrollment papers. Kuroo mostly takes care of it, with some input from Kenma, and Koutarou’s enthusiasm appearing in loud support of every decision. Akaashi is mostly passive, agreeing to the name Akaashi Kenji, and only saying he wants to be in Koutarou’s class when asked his age. That gets an eyebrow from Kuroo, but it isn’t questioned. Once the papers are completed, they quickly set up the hone, and give Akaashi a quick briefing on how the school works. Luckily for them, Akaashi explains the lessons he used to attend as a child, and so he’s familiar with the concept of school. The phone takes some time to figure out, but by the time they’re done, it’s getting late, and Akaashi is sending test-texts to Koutarou, until Kenma tells him he has a limited amount, and Akaashi instantly stops. 

 

By then, it’s definitely late into the afternoon, Kenma and Kuroo have missed the rest of their school day, and all three are going to need to hurry along to volleyball practice. 

 

“Can we take Akaashi with us?” is what Koutarou asks when Kenma quietly reminds the group of practice. 

 

The owl prince perks up, curious. “Volleyball. What is this? Training?” 

 

Koutarou laughs, shaking his head and grinning. “No, silly! It’s a game! With a ball! And I’m the ACE! That means I’m the best and strongest and awesomest!” 

 

“Actually–“ Kuroo interjects, “It means he’s the strongest _spiker._ Specifically. There’s quite a few rules, but I suppose you could come join us. What’s your skill set? Jumping? Arm strength? Light on your feet?” 

 

After a moment of consideration, Akaashi replies with, “I am highly skilled at attuning myself to the movements of others, and my pinpoint accuracy is also considerably exceptional. I am also very athletically fit.” 

 

Kuroo is eyes, glancing over to Koutarou. “Managed to find someone with your modesty, huh?” 

 

The remark is completely lost on the intended party. 

 

“Well, whatever. Let’s take him. He can at least run drills with us, and we can’t just leave him here.” 

 

Kenma stands and shuffles over to stand with Kuroo, grabbing his jacket sleeve. “Come on, let’s go,” he says, quietly, pulling him towards the door. “I want to talk to you.” 

 

They disappear out the door, leaving Akaashi and Koutarou alone once again. 

 

Koutarou turns to Akaashi, eagerness clear on his face. “Let’s go get ready for practice!” he cheers. 

 

Akaashi just smiles to himself as his exuberant host bounds out of the room, and then follows Koutarou up the stairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry i disappeared. life got complicated and messy and i kind of "broke up" with haikyuu. but i was sitting at work and going through old files looking for something, and found this, and decided to finish it. so uh. here ya go. i dont know if im gonna update again regularly, but i might try. ive been kinda into star trek again recently, but im gonna try to remember haikyuu. its been months since ive read or written anything for these guys, so this might be rusty.   
> i miss u guys  
> am 4hoots on tumblr and stuff  
> or. 4h00ts on twitter. yeah.......

**Author's Note:**

> okay so technically i have the next to chapters written  
> basically this mess will jump ten years into the future  
> and it will be your classic romance  
> with princes and owls and cliches  
> this is lame im sorry  
> itll also go nowhere probably but whatever here we are  
> TO FEATURE IN LATER CHAPTERS:  
> platonic bokuroken bc im weak  
> akaashi showing up and being beautiful  
> vaguely magical soulbond stuff  
> hiding  
> pining  
> thirsting  
> u kno the drill bokuto and akaashi are in love but dumb  
> also danCING and SWORD FIGHTING and FLYING  
> as well as volleyball and tests and bentos it's gonna be lit (not reallY)


End file.
